Starting Over
by lilyreally
Summary: Severus Snape decides to make some lifestyle changes.
1. Chapter 1

Starting Over

Chapter One - The Retirement

(Any characters that you recognize belong to JK Rowling)

Severus Snape looked about the classroom, his eyes drifting from student to student. A deep sigh arose from his throat, the intake of breath expanding the gaps of the many buttons of his course, black tunic. He pinched the bridge of his generous nose with his thumb and forefinger. On average days the short tempered professor was seldom in good humor, and today he seemed to be suffering a particularly nasty headache on top of his declining spirits.

The result of this sinking mood would have led one to expect an outburst of poisonous vitriol, or at the very least, a snarled sarcastic observation aimed at anyone who dared to meet his glare. But on the contrary, today he exhibited none of his usual nastiness. He simply continued to stare in an almost noncommittal fashion at the occupants of his potions class who sat before him.

Neville Longbottom was struggling with the cork of a flask that contained Essence of Vulturia, reddening more and more deeply as the stubborn object that sat at the neck of the beaker refused to move. Snape was certain that at any moment the boy might truly be foolish enough to attempt to pull out the unyielding cork with his teeth.

_Well, that will be a grave mistake, _he thought to himself, picturing in his mind the last time this had occurred in his classroom. Six years prior, another student had attempted that regrettable action, and with a resounding pop, the liquid in the glass flask had splashed out onto his hands and face, causing his nose to instantly take on the shape of the hard and pointed beak of a Quadra-winged Vulturia, his hands cramping into long and sharp claws. _Good Luck, Longbottom, _he sniffed with contempt. _Next time you will read the assigned chapter that clearly outlines the simple spell for removing the cork._.

His eyes moved to the double desk that was occupied by the Boy Wonder and his constant red haired sidekick. They had both apparently finished their brews and were now discussing, heads together, some subject that more dearly occupied their minds. He glanced at the bubbling cauldrons and noted that neither had achieved the desired shade of mandarin orange, but rather Potter's was a hue of blue, and Weasley's a color that Snape had genuinely never before observed in his life. And added to this curiosity, he noticed that soggy grey feathers were emerging from the top layer of the dreck, and perhaps even some type of… eyeball? Had he mentioned that the contents of their cauldrons would have to be ingested? _Good Luck to you, Weasley. If you thought that vomiting slugs was a nasty surprise, it will feel like a stroll in the park in comparison._

_ENOUGH! _the voice in his head screamed, and he stood up suddenly, moving as if pushed by demons to the door that emptied out into the wide dungeon hallway.

"Professor, aren't you going to check our cauldrons before you go?" he heard the whiny voice of the Granger girl.

He turned slowly and stared into her face, and noticed with some shock that he had an insane desire to dunk her wild and frizzy-haired head into the smoking pot in front of her.

"No," he managed in a controlled voice.

"B-but, are you coming back?" she pushed her luck.

"No," he heard himself say the word again and finally believed it. "No, I'm not. Oh, and by the way, Weasley, if you drink that, you'll be seeing large, black, poisonous spiders, the preferred snack of the Vulturia, in your dreams for the rest of your life. Consider that information a parting gift from me."

With those words he swung around and exited the threshold of the door that he would never cross again.

Severus climbed the stone stairway to the little cottage that he had rented. He stared past the scraggly row of pines toward the ocean and breathed in the briny air. He had had some misgivings about leaving Hogwarts, but they had been fleeting and hadn't the teeth to change his mind. Voldemort was now a shell of his former self, his Horcruxes destroyed. He was firmly locked up in Azkaban, stripped of his powers, and the Order of the Phoenix was stronger than ever. His own position as spy/counter spy had ended, and his continuation at the school would just be an endless nightmare of exploding cauldrons and pimple faced teenagers, mocking him for eternity.

There had to be more to life, and his decision had been made. Dumbledore had been surprisingly cooperative. "I think, Severus that you deserve to find something that will finally bring you happiness. You have given much more of yourself than most of us, suffered great mental and physical punishment over the years as my eyes and ears into Riddle's demented master plan. But I will be sorry to see you leave."

He had cleared out his office and his suite, Spelling them into just three small suitcases, and left quietly without fanfare. And now he stood, his remaining briefcase in hand, staring at the small cottage that would be his home. He'd never had a home to himself from the day he first left his family's side to enter the walls of the Academy and he rather liked it. The fireplace was tall and masculine, heavy rounded stones that sat squarely one on top of the other and formed an interesting pattern in the light of the fire's warm glow. The window in the small dining room faced the ocean and even now in the evening light he could still see the surf that pounded up onto the shore. Ship's lights dotted the horizon and it gave him a comfortable feeling of being not quite alone. His bedroom was perhaps the largest room of the house and also faced the water, a small deck encircling it. When the weather was warmer he reasoned that he might enjoy putting out some chairs and perhaps a small table to take in some of his meals in the fresh air.

He looked at the bed. It was the only thing in the house that truly bothered him. His whole life had been spent sleeping in beds that were barely larger than his tall frame. This bed was colossal, the rustic pine headboard perhaps as large as Dumbledore's, everything in the Headmaster's suite being disproportionately huge, a mark of honor to the position he held. But Severus did not need a bed so massive, so enormous. So, so… so much a reminder that he would not be sharing it with anyone.

Lily. The memory of the fair Witch floated before his mind's eye. Would she have enjoyed a bed of this size if things had turned out differently and he had been able to make her his own?

Severus shook his head wildly as if to clear his brain of any further meanderings. _Leave it alone, _he mumbled darkly.

Turning and walking out to the small and cozy kitchen, he lifted his finger and flames appeared instantly under the silver colored kettle that sat on the stove. He would have tea by the fire and start to plan for his new future.

He rubbed his tired eyes as the fire crackled and sizzled before him. The tea was acceptable but nothing to brag about, somewhat bland and tasteless, and as his stomach growled loudly, he puzzled as to why he hadn't thought to purchase a food supply. He wondered briefly if there was an inn somewhere in the little village and would it still be open for customers at this hour?

A loud crack startled him so severely that he almost let the teacup fly from his hands, instead spilling large wet blobs of the hot brown liquid onto his pants. His yelp was unmistakably from pain.

"Peas or carrots, Master Snape?" the nasally voice inquired, and as Severus looked up from the puddle in his lap, he saw the Elf that stood in front of him, wide eyed and grinning.

"BLOODY HELL!" he yelled, pulling out his wand and removing the steaming hot mess before it could cause a blister on the skin beneath the fabric. "You scared the Dark Curse out of me," Snape bellowed loudly. "Who are you?"

"Nobby," the floppy eared Elf answered as he dabbed a dirty handkerchief at the large man's knees. "Headmaster Dumbledore sent Nobby to look after Master Severus Snape," he lisped in an excited voice.

"I damn well don't need looking after," Snape growled menacingly, spittle flying into the wide open eyes of the small creature, "especially if your idea of 'looking after' is to startle the daylights out of me."

"Oh no, that was certainly not Nobby's intention. Nobby thought that Master must have known of Nobby's presence from the fire that Nobby prepared for him. Nobby has been elsewhere bringing more wood for the night as it will be very cold soon."

Snape looked at the logs that were expertly lined up inside the fireplace grate, now burning with the pleasant aromas of madrone and walnut. "I just assumed… "

"Master assumed that they carried themselves into Master's house and burned on their own," the Elf stated frankly with no underlying cynicism in his voice. "Nobby knows this because that is how all the Masters thinks. That is because only us Elves has the skill to accomplish these tasks without being seen," he stated, the obvious pride in his voice lifting it an octave higher.

"Well, thank you for that," Snape muttered begrudgingly, "but I won't be requiring your service any more. You needn't feel that you are on loan to me any longer; Return to Dumbledore."

"Oh, no Master," the Elf sputtered loudly. "Headmaster Dumbledore did not give Nobby to Master Severus Snape on loan. Nobby is now the Elf of Master Snape." The little man began removing Snape's boots. "Let Nobby see to your comfort, Master," he groaned a bit, falling backward as one large black boot walloped him in the chest from the force he had exerted to pull it off of Snape's foot.

"Stop that!" Severus shouted in surprise. "I don't have need of a house Elf. Here!" he raged loudly, pulling the sock off of the same foot. "Here is my sock," he flung the black limp piece of clothing at the Elf's head. "Clothing. You're now free. Free, free, free," he waved his arms at the astonished face of the small creature. "Go!"

He wasn't prepared for the large and long wail that emitted from the small figure.

"Master Severus Snape! You have made Nobby a Free Elf!" the tiny body shook and quivered, and the handkerchief that he pulled from his right ear and dabbed at his runny eyes was longer than his entire body. "Nobby has dreamed of this day, but never, ever did Nobby think that it would come," he continued to cry, his body now wracked with sobs.

"Well, then," Severus clapped his hands together, "you'll want to go out and have a proper celebration, won't you? Gather up your friends and toast your new life," he smirked. "There's no time like the present. Off with you then."

"Oh, no, Master," the Elf wailed once again. "Nobby is indebted to Master for life. Nobby is now a Free Elf and must remain here and care for Master."

Snape threw his head back against the stuffed leather chair and closed his eyes in exasperation. "After all these years of teaching, will I never be free of people under the height of a garden Gnome?" he growled.

"But if my old master truly wishes for Nobby to leave," the Elf's lip now quivered violently, "Nobby cannot refuse. Nobby's heart will be broken and will never mend, but Nobby will go," he walked around the room, shoulders slumped. "Does Master Severus Snape wish for Nobby to remove the dinner as well? It would be a shame to let the goose and the potatoes and gravy go to waste," he said, glancing sidelong to the kitchen, from where suddenly came the aroma of succulent roasted bird.

"Well, I suppose that would be churlish on my part," Snape tasted the flood of saliva filling his mouth and felt suddenly and uncharacteristically humbled. "If you promise not to make a scene, I'd be happy to share it with you."

Large tears threatened to spill from the eyes of the floppy eared Elf, but taking in a deep breath, he simply inquired, "Peas or carrots, Master Snape?"

Severus ravenously attacked his plate, piled high with crispy brown roast goose and buttery light scones the size of Quidditch Bludgers.

"Nobby, I must say, you're an excellent cook," he wiped the gravy from his plate depositing the dripping morsel into his mouth.

A strangled sob broke from Nobby's throat.

"Stop that," Severus glared at him.

"Nobby has never been with a Wizard who has given such a compliment," came the strangled voice.

"You're a Free Elf now, Nobby. You don't have to grovel for humans anymore. We won't be friends long if you continue with that," Snape said in a stern voice.

"Friends!" Nobby's eyes were frantically searching the ceiling as he attempted to thwart the fresh batch of tears that were threatening to erupt. "It's just that freedom is so new to Nobby as yet. Nobby has to practice at taking it for granted."

"Freedom is never something to be taken for granted," Snape burped into his linen napkin, "but you will have to start to practice being an equal now. And speaking of being taken for granted, I hope that you will accept my apologies. I'm certain that I have seen you many times at Hogwarts but I never knew your real name. I always thought that it was Dobby."

"Oh, but Master Severus Snape, Dobby is my twin brother. Nobby is quite certain that Master did see Dobby from time to time. Dobby served in the Great Hall. But Nobby was part of the kitchen staff, so Master and Nobby never met."

"I see," said Snape. "Well, we might as well start out as equals on your first day of freedom. From now on you may call me Severus," Snape patted his full stomach, now in a magnanimous mood.

"Oh, no," Nobby ogled him incredulously.. "Nobby could not do that. Master Severus Snape was a teacher at the grand Academy of Hogwarts. Master must be respected." His eyes lit up as he suddenly had a thought. "But Nobby could call Master... Sir."

"Alright," Snape nodded. "And is there a name that you would prefer to be called? I assume that Nobby was the name given to you by your original owner.

"Yes, Sir, it certainly was. Master Lucius Malfoy gave Nobby the name the day Nobby was born. Nobby's mother presented Nobby to Master Malfoy as the first born, and it was Master's right to name Nobby. Master looked at Nobby's bald head and laughed and said, 'Goodness, Sally, you have given birth to a nob.'"

"How incredibly rude," Snape's eyebrow shot up at the story.

"Oh, yes Sir, it certainly was. And Nobby has forever since been known as Nobby," he puffed his chest out with apparent pride.

"And yet you seem to find pleasure in being named after an insult," Severus blinked in astonishment.

"Oh, yes Sir! You see, Sir, an insult from Master Malfoy's mouth made it as good as a blessing, according to Nobby's mother. Anything that Master Lucius Malfoy considers to be right and proper is exactly the opposite."

"A very wise observation on her part," Snape nodded as he considered the truth in the words. "And your brother? Was he named after another pearl of wisdom from Lucius' mouth?"

"Oh, no Sir." Nobby stood to clear the plate in front of Snape, despite the tall man's objections. "Master Malfoy lost interest after looking Nobby over. And it was not many months later when Nobby's mother passed away from Elfinamonia. That's when Dobby and Nobby were given to Headmaster Dumbledore in exchange for a portion of young Master Draco's tuition. Master Lucius Malfoy did not want two baby orphan Elves scampering about the mansion."

"I see," Snape nodded and eyed the chocolate tart that was set in front of him, wondering if he could possibly eat another bite.

"Dobby is the good looking one in the family," Nobby went on, relishing the telling of his family history. "Nobby is best at the other thing. But Dobby is definitely the handsome one. Many a female Elf has fallen for Dobby," he blushed lightly over his pasty, yellow skin.

"Yes, quite the catch," Severus held his smile inside, clearly remembering the crumpled little man with the long face and ears that hung to his waist. "But what is the other thing, Nobby? I'm curious." The French wine that the Elf had poured several times into his glass had him in good spirits and the conversation was nothing if not interesting.

"Nobby is the funny one," he straightened his shoulders with pride.

"How so?" Severus laughed, although no jokes had been told as yet. "Entertaining, certainly, but as yet you haven't come forth with any wildly amusing stories."

"Oh, no, not stories, Sir," the Elf grinned.

Then before Snape's eyes, the Elf transformed his face into a perfect resemblance of Harry Potter. "I'm the greatest hero that ever lived," he said in a voice that mimicked his former student. "Don't you wish you were as perfect as me?" he went on to the delighted chuckles of the former Potion's Master.

A moment later his face had transformed into that of Hermione Granger. "Oh, boo hoo hoo, the teachers never call on me because I am a smarty pants know-it-all," he tossed about the long and bushy brown hairs that had now sprung up around his ears.

Snape's laughter shook the table. "Yes, Nobby, you are indeed funny. Who else can you do?"

Nobby thought for a moment. Seconds later, his face transformed into a smooth, peaches and cream complexion, the green eyes glowing brightly. As the sleek long red hair appeared to have instantly grown from his scalp, Snape was horrified to see his long lost love.

"Stop it!" he cried, flailing his arms out toward the Elf who instantly turned back into himself.

"Sir, what has Nobby done wrong?" He grasped a vase from the sideboard and prepared to strike himself with it, the instinct to punish himself still very much ingrained within him.

"How dare you mimic the dead?" Snape pounded the table with his fist, the wine clouding his vision as his hand came down squarely in the middle of the chocolate tart, spraying bits of crust and sticky sweet brown cream inches into the air.

"The dead?" Nobby's eyes were wide. "Oh, no Sir! That Mistress isn't dead. That Mistress lives in the next door cottage and walks the beach every morning. Nobby thought perhaps Sir knew her and Nobby was trying to entertain Sir with someone outside of Hogwarts."

Severus blinked as a small globule of chocolate fell from his eyelash. "Are you certain Nobby? Show her to me again."

Nobby pointed his long bony finger to the logs of the fire and the flames danced and brought better light into the room. As he transformed once more, the tightness in Severus' clenched fists relaxed.

"My apologies, Nobby," he slurred. "She is not the one that I thought."

The Elf's forehead was covered with sweat in relief and he sighed gratefully as he cleaned the tablecloth of the sweet brown stains.

"But Mistress is lovely, isn't she, Sir?"

With a smile, Snape closed his eyes and didn't even feel Nobby's gentle hands as he lifted him onto the much too enormous and empty bed


	2. Chapter 2 The Position

Chapter Two S.O.

Severus ate the delicious breakfast that Nobby had prepared for him. It had taken some convincing on his part to talk the Elf into returning to his own family and friends, and he did so only after Severus had promised him, hand over heart, that he would summon Nobby if he had but the slightest need for assistance.

"Its time for me to try my hand at becoming self sufficient, Nobby, and at the same time you have decisions to make about your own life, now that you are a Free Elf."

Even so, once the Elf had cracked out of the cottage, Severus noticed that his belongings had all been unpacked, the cupboards and pantry filled with a variety of food and drink, and every bit of dust and grime meticulously washed and swept away. Even the windows sparkled in the early morning sunlight, and as Snape sat and sipped his first cup of tea, he could clearly observe the sandpipers that ran in groups toward the surf to pick out their early meal, scrambling quickly back as a wave approached.

He saw her immediately and his heart quickened. As her back was turned to him, he only recognized her from the red hair pulled up in a knot as she ran along the white sandy beach, but he clearly remembered the close up of her milky complexion and emerald eyes from the view that Nobby had given him before he had collapsed into a deep sleep.

_And what will you say to your new neighbor when you meet? h_e wondered. "_Hello, so pleased to finally make your acquaintance. I am a Wizard who has fought the Dark Lord for most of my life and taught the brewing of magic potions to young Wizards and Witches at the Hogwarts School of Wizardry. I could entertain you with some magic spells if you'd like."_

He smirked at the thought of any encounter, let alone this preposterous scenario, and with a shrug, pushed her out of his mind. Snape was not entirely without knowledge of Muggledom, having been brought up with his feet in both worlds at an early age, but that had been many years ago, much water under the bridge. He wanted change, longed for a different life, dreamed of a simpler future where wars and dark magic did not exist, but the fact remained that he was and always would be a Wizard. Could he make a more pleasant life for himself outside of the walls of Hogwarts, outside of the company of 'his own kind'?

_So, tell me Professor, what exactly is the plan? _he asked himself, watching as the form of the girl running on the sand disappeared into the distance. _Apply for a position at the local post office? Sell Muggle automobiles? Paint sea shells and hawk them to the tourists? _He suddenly had a picture in his mind of some of the local peddlers on the beach, bare chested in sandals and short pants, despite the chilly autumn weather, and the vision made him shudder. His search for a simpler life would _not _include the elimination of all decorum. Although, he did concede that he would require clothing that was more suitable for his new environment.

Snape opened the newspaper that Nobby had left on the dining room table. It was quite flat and bland to his eyes. None of the pictures moved, but that section wasn't of interest to him. As he turned the pages, his eyes fell on the smaller print on the next to last page.

_Classified: Jobs._

Ah, yes. There it was.

Severus picked up the pencil that he had removed from his briefcase and started to read. Soon he had eliminated most of them with a bold X through the print until one caption caught his eye:

_Assistant to Pharmacist; Must have prior pharmaceutical knowledge._

Potions were his specialty, and even though in his world he had dealt mostly with herbs of an unknown variety to Muggles, he was learned of all medicines, for that had been a part of his studies before achieving his degree as Potion's Master.

He circled the ad and wrote down the name of the shop. Perhaps he would visit them that very day, and include a trip to the nearest clothing shop as well.

The small chemist's shop appeared to be perfectly suited for the village that housed only a few hundred inhabitants. As he entered, his educated nose picked up the odors of some of the more corrosive pharmaceutical ingredients, followed by the pleasant fragrance of familiar herbs and tinctures. He had dressed in dark trousers and a plain white shirt and pulled back his hair in an elastic band, hoping that his appearance was quite neutral for his first encounter with the local pharmacist.

A small man with white wiry hair greeted him in a friendly manner at the counter. "How may I be of assistance?"

Snape assumed that the man considered him a tourist since he eyed the tall Wizard with curiosity, a sure sign that he was completely familiar with all of the local faces in the town.

"I'm hoping that I might be of assistance to you," Snape said, his voice smooth and pleasant. "I would like to apply for the position listed in the daily paper."

The elderly pharmacist scratched the side of his nose, bumping his glasses a bit. "My, my. I didn't honestly think that the ad would elicit even a jingle," he stared at the younger man. "No one in this town has the credentials to assist me with filling the prescriptions. I merely posted it on a wish and a prayer. Quite frankly, I'm getting old and tired and a helping hand would be very welcome, but as I said… "

"I don't hold a license because my education and experience is mostly in the area of … holistic healing," Severus chose his words carefully, "but in my studies, I was required to have full knowledge of all of the pharmaceutical medicines, as well as dosage and side effects. I believe that I would be qualified to assist you."

The pharmacist eyed him closely. "Holistic? Interesting, very interesting. I have a great deal of respect for this branch of medicine, even though it is often scoffed at by some of our learned colleagues. But I feel that there is a great deal that we don't yet know about the benefits of natural herbs and potions."

_If you only knew the half of it, _Snape thought, but did not verbalize. "Then may I assume that you would be willing to accept my application?"

They spoke for another twenty minutes, each measuring the other in the course of the conversation. At the end of their talk, the pharmacist reached his hand out to the tall man and congratulated him on his new position. "Mr. Snape, your knowledge far exceeds my requirements. When could you start?"

Severus unlocked the door of the cottage with the brass key, resisting the temptation to simply speak an incantation. He wasn't hesitant to use magic, but he wanted to be careful outside of his own four walls, not wishing to raise any eyebrows from nosy neighbors. He remembered from childhood days the house that lined his own in Spinners End and the nosy woman who spent most of her time standing at the window, spying on whatever activities were taking place in the homes around her It was a well known neighborhood fact that she carried a spy glass from window to window so as not to miss the slightest detail. Snape had once cast a simple spell that had covered the eyepiece of the glass with indelible black ink, causing the neighborhood children to forever after refer to her as "the raccoon lady".

He laid the packages from the clothing store on his table and snapped the teapot to a boil.

It had been a good day, a productive day. His new job was certainly do-able, a way to keep busy with the things that he most enjoyed, and would not involve endless hours of repetitive classroom teaching to disinterested teenagers. No one had given him a second glance in the shops that he had entered, and best yet, there had been no curses or hexes aimed in his direction. His stomach was slowly starting to unknot and he looked forward to the nice Earl Grey that Dobby had stocked in his cupboard.

The flash of red hair outside of his window caught his eye, and the knot returned as he heard the knock on his front door. He opened it slowly, wondering with a pang of nervousness why she would be coming to his doorstep.

"Hi," the green eyes crinkled at the corners as they looked up into his. "I just thought I'd say a quick hello and welcome you to the neighborhood, such as it is. My name is Lara and if there's anything I can help you with, just let me know."

He stood and stared at her. Those eyes.

She reddened at his silence, and backed away a bit. "Well, I don't mean to disturb. I know you're busy with the move and all."

She was just starting to turn to leave when he caught himself and forced the voice from his throat, trying with some difficulty to sound normal. "Please excuse my rudeness. I wasn't expecting anyone and I was clearly surprised."

Her smile returned, the ice broken. "No need for apology. I don't get many visitors either out here in this secluded neck of the woods. But I thought that it would be quite thoughtless of me to not at least introduce myself."

"Thank you for that," he managed to return the smile.

"Alright then, good deed done, and I won't disturb any longer," she said, assuming that his lack of conversation signaled the end to the meeting.

"Severus," he said softly.

"I'm sorry?" she wasn't certain that she had heard him.

"My name is Severus. Would you care to come in? I'm just heating up the kettle."

"No, I've just had a run and I'm needing a shower," she laughed.

"Alright," he answered, suddenly disappointed but not surprised. What had made him extend the invitation when she was clearly just doing her neighborly duty?

"But if you can wait ten minutes, I'll bring some biscuits," she stated, her hand moving a stray strand of hair out of her eye.

"Biscuits would be nice," he said softly.

He washed up and put on a pair of the jeans that he had chosen at the clothing store, after carefully observing the dress of the local Muggles he had encountered in the streets. He pulled on the new black tee shirt, but cursed at not having tried it on in the store. It was quite snug and the muscles in his arms and chest bulged out a bit too much for his liking. There was nothing to do with the mark on his forearm, but he had seen similar markings on the arms of Muggles and remembered the tattoo that his own father had sported on his upper arm. If any questions were asked, he could play it off as an unfortunate choice made in his youth.

He retied his clean hair, confident that it looked quite acceptable to Muggle standards, having noted more than a few similar stylings of this sort on the men that he had passed earlier in the day. He looked into the hallway mirror and thought somewhat begrudgingly that the look was acceptable, although he would have felt much more at ease in his old tunics and robes.

The only thing that he could see, that might be considered a bit out of the standard of the "average man on the street" were his eyes. Blacker than coal, they caught even the tiniest glint of light, and were not even remotely a color that might be considered a normal shade of brown. It was a trait of the Wizards in his family blood line, and widely considered a mark of high intelligence in the Witch and Wizarding community. In his normal environment, he was quite proud of this feature, but would he be singled out as an oddity here amongst people who did not know of things such as Wizard blood lines and the importance of marks and colors and long accepted Witch tales?

He felt her presence at the door before he heard the knock, and reminded himself to lighten up his normally tightly controlled persona. This was a one time visit by a neighbor, dutifully made in kindness, as all Muggles seemed to be quite gregarious and trusting. He would need to mimic this trait in order to "pass", and even though his instincts were still those of a Wizard who knew more than most the darkness that lay behind each bush and under every rock, he must play the role. He was quite confident that having done her duty, the lovely woman would go her way again, and for that he felt a certain amount of relief.

_You're lying, _the voice in his ear whispered, but he threw it aside with a toss of his head.

She wore her hair down, glistening shiny and still a bit damp from her shower. He could smell the familiar lavender scent of the shampoo fragrance. She laughed as she juggled a plate of homemade biscuits, attempting to remove her jacket at the same time, and as he reached for the tinfoil covered dish, he almost gave himself away, nearly muttering a Righting Spell as the dish started to topple in her hands. _Careful! _ he quickly reminded himself, and caught the plate at the last minute in the 'normal' Muggle way.

"Pecan short breads," she announced. "I hope you like them. They're still fresh from this morning."

"My favorite," he smiled, although he had no experience with the biscuits that she described. "Please, sit there by the fire and I'll bring the tea."

"Thank you," she nodded, looking around the room at the cozy surroundings. "You are very handy. I've been in this cottage before and it never looked so clean."

"I had a bit of help with the moving in and the clean up," he murmured, "from a friend. But he won't be returning so it will be mine to keep up. Good luck to me," he added with a slight smirk.

True to her description, the biscuits were fresh and buttery and melted in his mouth, and the warmth of the tea with its lovely bergamot hues melted all discomforts on both sides. Soon they were comfortably rolling along in conversation, the fire crackly cozily at their feet.

"Would you sample a glass of wine with me?" he asked after a period of time. "My friend left it and I have been thinking to try it out, but wine is always better when shared."

"That's a nice way of putting it," she said with a smile. "I'd love to, that is if the invitation is not just out of duty."

"My purpose for moving is to relinquish all sense of duty," he stared boldly into her eyes. "I've had enough of that for a lifetime. I hope from now on to only do the things that truly inspire me, and right now, sharing a glass of wine with you seems upper most on the list."

"Alright," she reddened slightly and watched as he rose and turned to the dining room to uncork the ruby red bottle.

"So you will be working with Mr. Collingsworth," she commented on his revelation about his new position. "He is a lovely person, although Martin has become a bit distracted over the years. I'm glad that he has hired an assistant."

"Martin? You are friends?"

"Yes, I teach blind students at the home just outside the village. They have many special needs as well, and I have made hundreds of trips to the chemist's shop," she spoke, her brow raised in a slight tilt.

_So lovely, _he thought.

"I think you will get on very well. I just find it a bit amusing…"

"What's that?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing about Martin. But the ladies in the town will be arriving in droves once they discover the new assistant," her laughter tinkled.

"I beg your pardon? Why should my presence bring added interest? It is only a drug shop," he raised his glass to hers and took a hearty sip.

"Oh, don't be coy, Severus," she sipped the cool nectar and tilted her head. "You cannot deny that you are an exceedingly handsome man, because I'm certain that you have turned heads throughout your life. No need to be modest. Some people are just born with it and some… aren't."

"I'm certain that I have no idea of what you are referring to," Snape answered, quite truthfully. "I don't remember ever turning as much as a hair, let along an entire head," he now smiled, joining in on her joke. "You are a considerate neighbor if are attempting to bolster my confidence, but I am well aware that I have none of the attributes of which you speak, so it really isn't necessary."

Her mouth opened as if to say something, and then closed quickly. "Alright, Severus, if you insist on this modesty, I'll play along. But I'm just warning you, you will be overrun by many admirers. You'll know what I mean when they fill the shop and stammer in your presence."

"Bollocks," he let out a roar of laughter, the wine loosening his tongue. "Alright, you may say what you wish, but the facts are before us. I haven't heard one stammer or stutter from your lips, and I don't think it will happen in any other location, despite the intrigue and curiosity that might naturally occur at the arrival of a new face in town."

"Well, of course I wouldn't stammer. There is no chance of you finding me in any way attractive so there is no reason for me to queue up for your attentions. But there are some very lovely and available women in this town who will let their intentions be known, mark my word," she blushed a bit, and Severus wasn't quite certain whether it was from the words or the wine.

"Now who is being truly falsely modest?" he glowered, shaking his head in her direction. "But, as if you actually need a compliment, your beauty is startling. If indeed there are lovelier women in the vicinity, then all single males are in deep trouble." He set down his glass and crossed his arms as he finished, but was not prepared for her answer.

"You don't have to do that," she finished her wine and started to rise. "I well know how ugly I am. Alright, you don't like that word," she noticed his shocked expression, "but I've never felt it necessary to use a euphemism. Besides, I've heard the "kinder" descriptions of 'homely' and 'unattractive' throughout my life, and I would just prefer to keep it honest."

"You're joking," he stood along side of her, now confused as to the deteriorating direction of their conversation.

"No. If we're going to be neighbors, and perhaps friends, I'd rather appreciate honesty than false compliments. Thank you for the tea and wine, Severus. I hope we can do it again sometime."

After she was gone, Snape collapsed in his chair, wondering what had just happened. Surely she was pulling his leg. This woman's face belonged on a canvas, painted by one of the masters. Had she suddenly found herself uncomfortable in his presence, perhaps feeling a bit overwhelmed by his offer of wine? That must have been it, of course. They barely knew each other and he had all but cornered her and then pressed her to join him in the imbibing of spirits.

_Idiot, _he chastised himself.

But what was that whole 'ugly' rant about? Couldn't she have just excused herself without weaving such a preposterous story? It had begun with the topsy-turvy conversation of his attractiveness, as if he would have really believed that ridiculous notion, and ended with a story that was totally nonsensical. Ugly? She had had to reach far for that fable, very far indeed.

He shook his head and finished his glass. "Women," he mumbled. "The Muggle kind are just as confusing."


	3. Chapter 3 New Friendships

S.O. 3 Chapter

Early Monday morning Severus Snape put on a pair of dark trousers and white shirt. He already knew that he would be wearing a lab coat provided by his new employer. He tied back his hair and took a final swig of the tea in his cup.

It did not take him long to familiarize himself with the vials and bottles on the shelves of the chemist's shop, although he stared nervously at the modern machine that would be calculating the prices of the transactions and spitting out paper receipts.

"Don't worry about that now, Severus. I'm sure if you just observe what I am doing, it will quickly come to you. Also, I think that it would be easier if you called me Martin, since we will be working as a finely honed team by the end of the week," the weather worn face looked up to him with a grin..

"Alright," Severus took in a deep breath as he heard the jingle of the bells on the front door announcing their first customer.

The day did indeed go well and surprisingly quickly, as the patrons kept up a slow but steady stream throughout the hours. Severus mixed and poured, measured and bottled and capped, and familiarized himself with the workings of the cash machine. Within hours he too felt confident enough to ring up some of the sales, and in fact found it quite pleasurable.

_Who says that old Wizards can't learn new tricks? _He smiled inwardly.

As the clock struck the final hour, the smaller man flipped the lock on the door and turned the 'open' sign to the 'closed' side.

"Well done, Severus. I'm pleased as I can be. Will you join me in my back office for a quick whiskey? I'm afraid that it has become a daily tradition in my shop."

"Of course," Severus spoke as he removed the lab coat and marveled in his mind at how the day had flown. "Lara told me that I would enjoy working with you and she was right. It has truly been a pleasure." He felt that he needed to at least extend a cordial comment to match that of his new employer. Good manners seemed to be all important to Muggles.

"Lara? Oh, well of course you would have met. You are neighbors, I believe," the older man nodded as he poured a healthy drop into each glass.

"Yes, she was kind enough to come and introduce herself," Snape accepted the drink.

"Oh, dear me, she is more than kind. She has the heart of a lion. I suppose she developed that to make up for… "He stopped short.

"Make up for what?" Snape asked, honestly curious.

"Well, you know, the other things in life that she was shorted on."

"Such as?" He felt a trickle of temper rising but kept his voice smooth.

"Poor thing. She has always been quite unattractive, even from birth, and she never blossomed. She had to withstand some terrible teasing as a child. I'm quite certain that she took up the occupation of teaching blind children because they could only see her inner beauty."

Snape was rocked to the core. Was he truly blind himself? What was he missing about this woman that made her appear so lovely and breathtakingly beautiful to his eyes?

"Thank you for the drink, Martin. I'll see you in the morning, then?" he set down the glass and started for the door.

"Bright and early," his new employer winked with joviality.

"NOBBY!" he shouted and barely had to wait three seconds before the Elf popped into his vision with a loud crack.

"Sir! I was hoping that Sir would summon me soon. Is Sir in need of supplies?" the raspy nasal voice of the Elf filled the room.

"No. Just some information, and I expect the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," he eyed the Elf with a venomous glare.

"Oh yes, Sir!" Nobby bowed to him, "Of course. Nobby is capable of trickery, but Nobby was not raised to tell lies."

"Did you bewitch that woman who lives next door to appear to me as a beauty?" Snape stood, finger pointed at the Elf.

"Does Sir mean the lovely Mistress who runs on the beach? Why should Nobby do any such thing, Sir? She is most beautiful without any magic," he stared with a curious expression at his former Master.

"I want a yes or no answer, Nobby, and I want it to be completely truthful," his voice echoed through the small cottage.

"No, Sir! No, no, no. Nobby has not bewitched the beautiful Mistress, of that Sir can be certain," he shook his head fiercely.

Snape accepted the word of the Elf, but later that evening as he struggled with sleep, he vowed to himself to resolve this puzzle that vexed him, and he would do it as quickly as possible.

Severus barely managed to unlock the door of the shop when he was greeted by three ladies who slipped in past him and into one of the aisles of the store, talking in whispers and giggles. As he proceeded to his station at the back of the shop, one of the women approached him and held out her hand.

"I'm Loretta Venson and I'm a regular customer," she held his hand in her own, not releasing it for what seemed minutes to Snape.

"Yes, Mrs. Venson, is there something I can help you find?" he finally managed to wrangle out of her grip.

"MISS Venson. Loretta. I'm wondering if perhaps you could help me to locate the throat lozenges," she asked, gazing into his eyes.

"Certainly. They are in aisle three," he pointed.

There were giggles from the other two women whose faces he could not see behind the aisle that contained cold and flu ingredients.

He picked up his pace, wondering whether these were some of the curious local ladies that Lara had warned him about. It wasn't long before he became aware of more women who had entered the store. Some of them stared at him boldly, trying to catch his eye. Others poked their noses around corners of shelving and popped back when he looked in their direction. A few came up to him seeking answers to long and complicated questions, but when one lady approached wanting to know the best douche product that would ensure complete cleanliness and April freshness, he turned his back and strode into Martin's office.

"What is this?" he questioned him. "Where are yesterday's customers, the ones who came to be supplied with medications for legitimate ailments?"

"You must have cured them," he chortled, seeing Snape's frustration. "Not to worry, I'm certain we will have more people in genuine need of medicinal aid," he grinned. "I'm afraid that the word has gotten around about the handsome new assistant at the local drug store. Would you like me to work the floor today while you fill the prescriptions? I don't mind."

"If you would," he answered, his face clearly showing his discomfort.

Even so, a few women broke past the elderly druggist and queued up to Snape's counter calling for his attention.

"Could I be of service?" he all but growled at one.

"Might you tell me where the beauty creams are located?" she purred, blinking her heavily mascara laden eyes.

_They wouldn't help. The only thing that would fix that face would be Polyjuice Potion mixed with a hair from your dog, _he wanted to say, but held his tongue.

Unlike his first day on the job, this one dragged on until time seemed to stand still. As Snape observed the female customers, he couldn't help but notice that they were all extremely unattractive, quite hideous to be precise.

And then the door bells jingled and he saw her walk in through the aisle that allowed him a glimpse of the entrance. Her hair was pulled back into a pretty French braid and her porcelain skin had a touch of pink on the high cheeks from the chilly wind that shook the trees outside the window.

He could see her approach Martin and noticed as she turned to face him when the proprietor pointed in his direction. She nodded at some apparent clever remark from the older man and her lips curled in a radiant smile. _Beautiful, _he thought.

"That poor woman," Snape heard the remark from the thickly painted hag still standing at his counter. He murmured the incantation under his breath and suddenly she let out a scream as a large and fat spider crawled out of her heavily sprayed hair and tiptoed across her face.

Oh, that would cause a bit of havoc for him and a warning letter from the Ministry, he reckoned, but it was the most enjoyable act that Severus had performed in many long hours..

Lara approached his counter with a look of concern at the shaken woman. "Lavinia, are you alright? Can I assist you in some way?"

"A revolting insect," the woman shuddered as she and her friends hurried toward the exit.

"Well, she has me pegged," Severus met Lara's eyes and shrugged.

"I don't think the comment was in reference to you," she stared back in amusement. "But why do I get a feeling that somehow you were involved?"

"Really? How un-neighborly of you," he glanced at her with a subtle twinkle in the black eyes. "But just to show that there are no hard feelings, I have the prescriptions ready that I was warned you would be coming for today."

"Oh, good," she reached for the bags that he handed her. "Well, see you later then," she turned to walk away.

"About seven o'clock?" he spoke softly.

"What?"

"Could I drop in for a neighborly visit at about seven o'clock? We never finished that bottle of wine and I might pick up another on my way home."

"Oh, uh, sure," she stated with a tiny bit of hesitation.

"I won't be disrupting any plans?" he cocked his head toward her, his gaze fixed on her eyes.

"No. No plans. You're most welcome," she tucked the bags under her arms and left the shop.

As the clock struck the closing hour, he joined his employer for a whiskey in the back office, but his mind was on one thing only.

"Martin. I have a question about Lara. Forgive me because I'm a stranger here, but since we are neighbors, could you tell me a bit a about her?

Martin removed his glasses and looked at Snape, a sadness touching his eyes.

"It's not a happy story, my boy, especially since I adore the girl so." He sighed several times as he uncorked the bottle and poured the golden liquid into the short, somewhat grimy glasses that he had removed from the sink. "Lara's father was a local boy. He left us for a while to go on a job with the military. When he returned he brought back his bride. She was a bit odd, but quite friendly and outgoing. Unfortunately, she was different in looks and in her habits from the local folk – a bit artsy and unusual. She put up little clay gnomes in her garden and they were so realistic that some of the townsfolk swore that they came to life after dark.

Despite her efforts, she was never accepted here by the town ladies," he continued, "a sure death knoll in this village Somehow there started a vicious rumor that she was a witch, not that those sorts of things really exist."

Snape kept his opinion to himself but he ground his teeth within his cheeks.

"Oh, the story only gets sadder," Martin poured out another shot of whiskey for himself, moving the bottle to Snape who quickly declined.

"So," he continued, despite Snape's refusal of the drink, "they had a baby. They were so in love, but the little girl very clearly took after the mother. She had the same eerie eyes, the pointed chin and long nose. Very disturbing face."

Snape scratched his forehead. "Martin, are we talking about the same woman? I actually think that she is quite lovely."

"Oh, you are a kind person, dismissing her obvious, err… "

"I am not particularly kind. I just can't see in her face what everyone else in this town seems to regard as ugliness," Snape snorted.

"It is not so much that her features are ugly, Severus, but surely you must have noticed how they are somehow… wrong. Out of proportion. Nothing seems to match up. It is almost as though the genes of both of her parents were fighting against each other as she was formed." Martin downed the glass and gave a deep sigh. "And such a shame because she is certainly the nicest person in this village.

"Tell me then, the other ladies who were in this shop today, do you see them as attractive?" Severus squinted at Martin.

"I would say so, yes," Martin said. "In our village we pride ourselves on our lovely women. Loretta Venson was the Snow Queen here in town three years running. But of course, she knows it, and it has made her quite conceited."

"What? The woman who shook my hand? Martin, she resembles a fat, floundering fish and I don't mean that as a compliment to the fish," he shuddered.

Martin held his hands up and laughter rang from his throat. "Oh, well, you wouldn't want to spread that around town. She can be quite vindictive, I hear." He wiped the small tears springing forth from his eyes with a tissue and for a moment Severus was reminded of Albus Dumbledore.

"So you said that the story was sad," Snape urged him to finish.

"Oh yes. Both parents died before Lara was even school age. They were involved in a motorbike accident. Very sad, indeed. Lara was raised in the orphanage, and from what I suspect, she didn't have an easy time of it there."

"Indeed," Snape remembered his own lonely childhood. "Tomorrow, then."

"Bright and early," Martin raised his hand in farewell.

Severus stood in the shower and washed away the grime of the workday, but nothing could wash away the thoughts of the unusual events of the past several days. Was Lara's mother a true Witch? Garden Gnomes that came to life would certainly indicate that possibility. He knew that Lara did not possess magic. A Wizard could readily recognize a Witch, and Snape's senses were above average.

However, it was not as easy to detect a Squib. Certainly if the mother was magical and the daughter did not receive the gene, then she could be a Squib. That would certainly explain his altered perception of her appearance.

_Out of proportion. Nothing seems to match up. Almost as though the genes of both of her parents were fighting against each other as she was formed. _Martin's words echoed in his ears.

The melding of genes between Muggle and Wizard sometimes created some bizarre combinations, both good and bad. To the Muggle world, Lara's unusual eyes and less than uniform features obviously signaled that something about her was different. To Muggles, different was bad. But to a Wizard, she would appear perfectly normal, and in Lara's case, a seldom seen beauty. But how could he possibly convince her of this without giving away his identity?

She opened the door to his knock, accepting the wine with a smile and a nod for him to enter.

She took his breath away, and he was barely able to move his feet. He was now more convinced than ever that his theory was correct. What was grossly distorted to Muggle eyes came into clear focus when viewed by Magical persons.

"So, what is the reason for this visit?" she motioned for him to sit. "I take it that it isn't just a chance to be neighborly. Are you in search of information about some of the ladies who have suddenly become valued customers?" Her face wore a grin.

"Not in the slightest," he snorted. "I wish that they would all stay away. I'm trying to learn a number of new prescription combinations, not to mention all the articles crammed on the shelves of the shop, and they are simply irritating distractions. By the way, what is a thing called nail polish remover? Does it remove nails or does it remove polish? And why would anyone want to polish a nail? I don't see how that would make it any easier to hammer it into a board," he stretched out his hands in true wonderment.

"Oh dear," she giggled, "You really are from a different region, aren't you?"

She presented her hand to him. "The reference is to the nails on the fingertips. The light pink color that you see is not natural, but rather a type of paint that is referred to as nail polish. In order to remove the color, one must use a liquid called Nail Polish Remover. Don't the women in your home town wear nail polish?"

"Oh, I see," he took her hand and studied it carefully. It was small and fragile and the skin was as lovely as that on her face and neck. And, he assumed, the rest of her body. He flushed as the visual entered his mind's eye. "Yes, they do, but where I come from, a different method is employed. But this is certainly lovely."

She withdrew her hand from his and stood up quickly, her face reddening. "I'll pour the wine. I have some cheese and crackers that would go well with it."

"Alright," he answered and looked about the room as she busied herself in the kitchen.

She was artistic, her paintings lining the walls of the small living room. He noticed her simple signature in the corners of the artwork: Lara. They were very well done and exceedingly pleasant to his eye. He wondered whether Muggles saw them the same way, or was it another thing that was lost to their vision.

"These are beautiful," he commented as she came in carrying a tray of wine and glasses and assorted appetizers. "Do you sell them?"

"Oh, no. I'm afraid there is no market for my art. I like it, so I basically make it for myself, but I've never received many favorable comments. 'Too modern' or 'Wow, that is really different' are about the kindest remarks I've gotten," she shrugged.

"You must be showing them to very uncultured people," he raised his nose. "In my town they would sell for a rather good price, I suspect."

"I'm becoming a bit curious about this town of yours," she tilted her head. "Where exactly is it located?"

"Just outside London," he reached for his glass and lifted it to hers. "To us. Neighbors."

"Neighbors," she repeated.

"Lara, I think somehow we started off on the wrong foot the other day. It was not my intention in any way to insult you, and I'm sorry that you felt that way," he stated after sipping the ruby liquid.

"No apology necessary. I just don't take false compliments well, that's all," she avoided his face.

"And I have never given one," he touched her knee so that she was forced to raise her eyes to his. "Further more, I promise you that I never will."

"You said that my beauty was startling," she bit her lip. "I would call that a false compliment. But I'm willing to forget it and start over."

"Lara," he set the glass down in front of him and took her hand. "I finally understand that this will be difficult for you to believe, but in the town that I come from, you would be considered a startling beauty. Please, don't argue until I finish," he saw her mouth about to form words of disagreement. "I don't exactly know how or why, but I have a certain idea. Things in our two worlds are quite different, looked upon differently. Just like the paintings on your walls would be very desirable in my town, so, in fact, would you."

She pulled her hand away from his. "Mr. Snape, I've been to London and I do realize that things there are quite a bit more _cosmopolitan_," she emphasized the word, "than in our little village. But people are people everywhere, and I don't remember turning any heads on the streets of your town."

"London is not my town, nor does it remotely resemble it, but I give you my word that I am not filling your head with false flattery." He stared long and hard into her eyes, the depths in the blackness of his finally convincing her to believe him.

"Alright then, Severus, what shall we drink to now?"

"To us. Friends."

"Friends," she repeated.


	4. Chapter 4 The Ball

Severus was finding his new life quite pleasant. At first his position at the chemist's shop was filled with enough daily challenges to keep his mind and his hands occupied and busy, but as the days wore on, he found that he could be even more useful. The local Muggle physician was intelligent enough, but not overly imaginative, and Snape sometimes added his own little special touches to the bottles of elixirs, or a slight wave of his hand over an envelope of tablets.

"Interesting," Martin said as he eyed Snape one morning, "Old Mr. Vanderplug has been complaining for years that the arthritis medicine we bottle for him is totally useless. Today he came in praising the pharmaceutical laboratories for finally making it stronger. He said that all of a sudden his aches and pains have disappeared."

"Mm," Severus kept his eyes on the measuring apparatus as he poured in a dose of liquid.

"And Cynthia Marble no longer has a bit of trouble with her acid indigestion, even though the tablets haven't ever before given her relief. She has never followed her diet and I have no reason to believe that she has started to do so now, and yet suddenly she is amazingly heartburn free. How would you suppose… "

"Ah, the delivery man," Snape nodded his head to the door, "and just in time. We are completely out of wart remover."

"Yes," Martin gave him a curious look. "just in time."

Evenings were equally pleasant as Severus and Lara often found an excuse to cross each other's doorsteps to ask a question or borrow a cup of sugar, always ending in a shared glass of wine or a meal. Soon it became an established routine that each of them looked forward to eagerly.

They especially enjoyed cooking meals together and Severus took delight in chopping and grinding the herbs and vegetables, while Lara sautéed and stirred the ingredients on the stove, wonderfully fragrant smells coming from the kitchen as they talked and laughed and sipped their wine.

"Severus, look!" she called from her doorstep one evening after they had finished a dinner of veal chops in a Marsala and mushroom sauce that both had announced as perfect.

"What's wrong?" he walked to her side, wondering if something was stirring in the woods surrounding their cottages.

"Nothing is wrong. Look at the moon," she moved to the side and in to his view came a most lovely sight.

The big, round balloon was hanging in the sky, just over the ocean, and it appeared to be tossing diamonds into the water below. They sparkled and shimmered as they danced and played in the light chop of the waves.

"Have you ever seen anything quite so beautiful?" she murmured.

"Yes," he put his mouth to her ear and said, "standing right in front of me."

Her skin warmed to his touch and she turned her face to his, then dropped her head to her chin.

"Look at me," he whispered.

"I… I've never been kissed before," she stated the admission, his breath so close to hers.

"Then you won't be able to say that tomorrow, will you?" he brushed his nose against her cheek, feeling her body tremble against his, before covering her mouth with his full, soft, warm lips.

She sighed as he slowly pulled his head back and looked into her eyes.

"I've wanted to do that from the moment I first saw you," his black pupils were even larger than usual.

"I'm half afraid to believe you, but… "

"Don't you _ever_ doubt me," he folded her in his arms, kissing her once again, but this time with the passion that was stirring inside of him. "At least not when it comes to my feelings for you," he murmured in her cheek briefly, then kissed her again.

"Three kisses in one night," she managed to say and laugh at the same time when they paused for a breath.

"Well, since you're counting, be prepared to get out one of those Muggle calculators," he now stroked her hair and nuzzled her shoulder.

"Muggle? That must be a colloquialism from that town of yours," she giggled. "What does it mean?"

"It means that I'm spending much too much time with foolish talk when there are many more important things to do with my mouth… and yours," he found her lips once again, as the moon looked on.

He was prepared to stop, not wanting to do anything to frighten her away, but as he held her and kissed the soft, warm curve of her throat, she pressed her body into his and sought out his lips with her own. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest and he knew that she could feel the hardness of him pressing and growing against her body.

"Lara, very soon I won't be able to stop," he whispered against her cheek.

"I know," she slid her hands around his back and pulled him even more closely into herself.

He groaned and with his lips still on hers, he lifted her and carried her into the bedroom, and lay down next to her. For the briefest of seconds, they looked into each others eyes, and Lara smiled.

Slowly and carefully, with trembling fingers, Severus undid each and every button of her blouse, finally drawing the material to the sides. Her bra was fragile and lacy, and did nothing to hide her full milky white breasts, nor the pink of the taut nipples that lay within. He lowered his face between the cleavage, smelling the sweet perfume of her skin, and felt himself harden with an exquisite pain inside the tight jeans. He kissed the velvet mounds that lay outside the delicate garment, then ran his tongue over the protruding nipple, feeling it stiffen through the lacy cloth. Unfamiliar with this clothing, he did not know that the clasp was in the center, but he watched as her hands reached up, undoing and separating the cups, and suddenly her breasts were free, full and round, the nipples engorged from her passion, inviting his tongue to touch them, his lips to encircle and suck them.

He couldn't bear it any longer, and within seconds he was free of his shirt and his jeans, his silky dark hair now sticking to the perspiration on his forehead.

He was nervous and clumsy, she excited and anxious, the recipe for certain disaster, but as he slid himself into her warmth, he felt that he had finally found the home that had eluded him his entire life. What he wasn't prepared for were the fireworks that accompanied this discovery, and moments later he collapsed at her side, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

He kissed her eyelids, caressing her cheek.

"It's the first time in my life… "she whispered.

"You don't need to tell me anything about past experiences," he whispered back, "I don't care. All I care about is who we are to each other."

She touched his lips with her fingertip. "No, Severus. The first time in my life that I felt… pretty."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. "Well, in that case, will you allow me to apply for the full time position?"

She answered him with a deep and searching kiss that made him smile inwardly in surprise. _Already, Severus? Perhaps you're not so old after all._ He slid his hands over her bare midriff, stopping at the soft breasts, and, with a sigh, the nipples that seemed once again to beg for his lips.

_"These are mine now," _he murmured, looking up into her eyes, his voice that of a small boy, claiming full possession.

She giggled and stroked his silky black hair. "Alright, Severus. You may have them. Do you have anything in trade?"

"Oh, indeed I do," his black eyes twinkled as his lips met hers once again.

"Severus, is it something serious?" she grinned up at him over her morning coffee.

"What do you mean?" he raised his eyebrow at her. "Why would you say that?"

"I can always tell when you are thinking about something serious. Your brow knits together to form that crease above your nose, and you purse your lips in that little boy way," she stroked his cheek.

"To be honest, I was wondering whether I should invest in a suit," he cocked his head in her direction.

"Oh, are you going somewhere fancy?" she asked.

"We are going to the Snow Festival Ball, aren't we?" his face reddened. _Bloody Hell_, he thought, _she probably already has a date and here I am presuming_… "I'm sorry…, "he stammered. "I didn't stop to think that you may have promised someone else," he stiffened, now suddenly embarrassed.

Lara fell silent and fingered the remaining cookie crumbs on the plate in front of her.

"That's it, isn't it? Oh, I feel rather foolish now. I just assumed… "

"No one else has asked me," she pushed the plate away and stood up to clear the dishes. "Severus, you seem to forget that we live in our own little world here. I don't know what kind of magic surrounds us, but in this house, I am beautiful and desirable and deliriously happy. But that is not how the rest of the world sees me."

He stood up and circled his arms around her waist. "Lara, the rest of the world is blind, and I'm glad for it. I wouldn't stand a chance with you if they all saw what I did."

"And oddly enough, I believe you," she returned his embrace. "But I know how the people here think. They will assume that you are taking me to the ball out of pity or playing some kind of malicious practical joke. I think we will both be quite uncomfortable."

Snape curled his fists into tight balls. "I don't give a tinker's damn about how or what they think. I suppose I am being selfish, but I want to go to the ball with my sweetheart. I've never done, and for the first time in my life, I want to dress up and go to the dance and hold my lady in my arms. I know beyond any doubt that I will be with the most beautiful woman in the world, and if their eyes can't see it, Merlin's Beard, they are the blind fools!"

"Merlin's Beard?" she laughed out loud. "Goodness, Severus, you have the most charming expressions. But if Merlin is a hero of yours, you are my Knight of the Roundtable, my Lancelot. So how can I deny you? If you truly want to go, I will attempt to look as nice as possible."

"Then in that case, let me do it properly," he stepped away and took her hand. "Lovely Lara, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Snow Festival Ball?"

"I will," she whispered, the tears glistening in her eyes. It would be her very first date.

Her gown was a deep emerald green, matching her eyes perfectly and complimenting the ginger hair that she wore swept up from her long elegant neck. Severus didn't think that she required any additional coloring on her face, but even he had to admit that the touches that she had applied made her beauty even more radiant and startling.

"Oh!" he exclaimed as she opened her door.

"I could say the same." Her eyes danced appreciatively over the tall and handsome man who would be her date that evening.

As they walked into the clubhouse that held most of the special events for the village, Severus proudly put his arm on her bare shoulder, leading her to a table where Martin waved his arm at them in a wide arc.

"Severus, Lara," he kissed the girl's cheek and shook Snape's hand. "You both look… " he stopped momentarily, "well, very interesting, together," and suddenly noticing Snape's dark scowl, added, "and very pretty, Lara."

If Lara noted the faux pas, she did not let on, only patted his hand.. "Thank you, Martin. You look very nice yourself."

As the band struck up a mellow tune, Severus stood and reached for Lara's hand, but she remained frozen in her seat, her face flushed.

"If you don't let me hold you in my arms on the dance floor, I will have to embarrass you and set you in my lap," he bent down and whispered in her ear. "I can't leave my hands off of you for another second."

She smiled then and arose, following him onto the floor. At first he held her at a respectable distance, but soon, not being able to help himself, pulled her tightly into his arms, his cheek next to hers, his breath in her ear.

He heard the raucous giggle as they glided past the table and at first thought nothing of it, until he saw the face of the blond haired boy who pointed at Lara and poked his fist into the arm of the gum chewer next to him. The boy then cupped his hands to his mouth and mocked the sound of a howling dog, laughing once again. In the din of the ballroom, no one but Snape had observed this extreme rudeness, and his eyes blackened. He drew in his breath and imperceptibly nodded his head.

The boy suddenly shot up out of his chair and started to scream in a voice that much resembled that of a chipmunk: "I AM A BASSETT HOUND. LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL BLUE BALLS!" emitting a wailing howl and jumping on his chair to do a tap dance.

All heads turned in his direction, and a few voices were heard to snort, "Drunk," and "Completely pissed, he is."

Two men approached the blond headed teenager and his friend, and led them out of the ballroom, hands firmly gripping them by the shoulders.

"That was interesting," Lara looked up at Severus as the dance ended. "I've never known Sam to be drunk, although he can be a handful," she shrugged. "Poor boy, I hope that he doesn't have a terrible hangover in the morning."

"Yes, we can only hope," Snape led her back to the chair, a smirk on his lips. "But he probably will."

"Mr. Snape," a voice drawled in his ear as he seated himself. "Don't get too comfortable, because I'm hoping that you will save a dance for me."

He looked up into the face of Loretta Venson and recoiled somewhat, wincing at the turquoise blue eye shadow and the overbearing perfume wafting in his direction.

"I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other," she continued, completely dismissing Lara's presence.

Lara shrunk just a bit in her chair and seemed to disappear from view.

_Is this what they have done to her throughout her life? _Snape thought. _Treated her as though she is invisible, or an object to be blatantly ignored. _

"How kind of you, Miss Venson," Snape gave her a cold smile. "Yes, of course, a dance…," he paused, "but you have something on your cheek. Just there," he pointed to the black beauty mark, darkly penciled in.

"Oh, this?" she showed a row of large protruding teeth as she gave him a smile. "This is a natural beauty mark."

As she touched it, however, it grew into a very large, dark wart.

"Loretta, you really should have that looked at," Martin was suddenly taken aback by the gross and hideous lesion.

"Why, it's nothing, I've had it my entire life," she continued the smile, but it quivered slightly as her finger felt what was now the large and warty growth that was rapidly spreading across the better part of her cheek.

She rummaged through her purse, brought out a small mirror and held it to her face. The shriek could be heard throughout the hall, along with the sounds of her clattering heels running to the exit.

"What do you suppose has caused that?" Martin gazed up at Snape.

"Spattergroit," Severus mumbled into his drink. "But it should be gone in a month or so."

"Interesting," Martin scratched his chin. "A new disease I've never heard of, but then again, so many things popping up these days. Things passed on by monkeys and pigs and birds. I really have to start reading my journals more religiously."

"Mm," Severus merely nodded, then turned to face Lara. "I think we should dance," he kissed her fingertips lovingly.

"I'm afraid that we will have to wait now. They are collecting the ballots for Snow Queen, and the music won't continue until after the collection," she watched as several men came around and distributed white cards and pencils. "I used to work the ball serving at the punch table, and it is the tradition for each man to write in the name of one of the single women in the audience."

Severus took a card that was handed to him, as they were to all the gentlemen in the room. He quickly scribbled something on it, folded it and put it in the wicker basket that followed.

She eyed him with a grin. "Well, whoever counts that ballot will be sure to get a good laugh," she squeezed his hand, "and forever after I can say that I was at least lucky enough to… "

"You can't say anything," he grinned back at her. "You don't know what I wrote on that card."

"Of course I don't, but I have a pretty good idea. Like they say in show business, it's an honor just to be nominated," her pretty green eyes sparkled.

He stood and held his hand out to her, once again hearing the orchestra striking up a song. He kissed her neck and murmured in her ear, things that made her laugh and blush at the same time. They were completely unaware and disinterested in any of the other couples around them, despite the whispers and the stares from every direction.

As the music ended, a drum roll sounded, and all eyes were on the stage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, with a nearly unanimous vote," the M.C. shook his head in obvious disbelief, then quickly regained his composure, "this year's Snow Queen is…," again the drum roll, "Lara Wellington."

A gasp was heard from the audience, followed by several chuckles, then outright laughter.

Lara's face reddened deeply and she turned to Severus. "Please, take me home," she begged.

Regret and anger at his own impulsive action ripped through him, and he let out a low and feral growl. From his suit coat he pulled out his wand, pointed it at the audience of people, and within seconds plates and platters and glasses of blood red wine covered and drenched them. Screams of fright followed, as men and women attempted to run to the door, slipping and sliding and falling in the puddles and the globs of cheese dips and greasy gravies. Some grasped out for the window curtains, tearing them from their brackets. A large man slid feet first into the small bleachers that held the orchestra members, toppling drums and bass violins. A trumpet clanged across the floor and tripped up a shrieking woman, who Snape noticed with some pleasure, had been the first to let out the laugh that had triggered his anger.

Lara stood very still, both of her small hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Do you trust me?" he spoke loudly above the din.

"I… I… "

"DO YOU TRUST ME?" he shouted.

She caught his look, glanced around briefly, then nodded her head.

With that, he took her hand tightly in his own. "Take a deep breath and brace yourself," he commanded, and in the blink of an eye, they both vanished from sight.

The air was torn from her lungs and she thought she might be sick, but his hand remained curled around hers and she willed herself to ignore the panic in her stomach.

When the motion finally stopped, he wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly until she stopped shivering. When she finally opened her eyes, he kissed her softly and stepped aside so that she could see where she stood.

Before her rose a magnificent castle, it's tiers and spires stretching far up into the darkness of the night.

"Where are we?" her voice trembled.

"Home," he said. "We're home."


	5. Chapter 5 The Charm

"This was a very dangerous thing you did, Severus," the Headmaster peered at him over his half moon glasses, his hands firmly planted on the desk in front of him. "What if it had turned out that your theory was wrong?"

"She would be dead." Snape sat on the brown dragon-hide chair opposite the large, ornate oak desk, head in hands. "I need no reminder of that. It was my foolish actions that caused this event."

"But you're certain that the lady… what is her name?"

"Lara."

"You're certain that she has sustained no injury?" Albus Dumbledore's voice was raspy, yet steady.

"Yes. Pomfrey checked her out. Lara is physically well, just exhausted. She is sound asleep in a suite in the guest quarters. I gave her a slight sedative as well, something to allow her to sleep without disturbing dreams."

The old man finally allowed himself to sit, the high-backed chair framing his tall form.

"That, at least, is a good thing. But you do realize, Severus, that we now have a situation. I'm not certain… "

"Yes, there is a situation, but not the one you are dreading," Severus sighed. "I did manage to Obliviate the crowd before we Apparated. No one will remember my wand or my incantations. However, even that probably wasn't necessary. Those people… " his voice rose in anger, "I saw their faces when I reigned terror down on them. Even though it was quite plain that I was the one who was causing the destruction, it was Lara that they blamed. I could see the looks of revulsion and hatred that they shot at her. The simple fact that to them her appearance is 'different' marks her in their minds as someone evil. I'm quite certain that she would be in danger if she returned."

"I can't condone your actions based simply on the fact that you thought she was a Squib. Had she not been, the results would have been disastrous, if not fatal," his blue eyes still shot sparks.

"Either way, they would have been disastrous. That mob would have killed her, or I would have had to kill them. It was, in my opinion, the least risky plan of action. I was by that time quite certain of my suspicions. To Nobby and I, Elf and Wizard, and therefore Magical, Lara appears as she is, exquisitely beautiful. To the Muggle world, her appearance is at best… distorted."

Albus sighed. "Indeed you are correct in your theory. Squibs do appear differently to Muggles. Raoul Sanchrist has written three books on this subject, although it is has never been required reading at Hogwarts. Perhaps in the future I should include at least the first volume for our seventh years, as nowadays many of them are interacting more and more in the Muggle community." Dumbledore pointed his wand at the massive bookshelf behind him and three dusty, leather-bound books floated gently past his shoulder and settled in front of him. "I just hope that in the future you will take steps to verify your theories before carrying out what could be a fatal conclusion."

"No one feels worse than I do. I've not only taken her from her home, I've made it impossible for her to return. I don't think that her life was the happiest, but it was her life."

You may want to borrow these, " Albus softened his gaze at the dark haired man in front of him. "Perhaps the wisest thing at this point would be to look to the future."

"Unfortunately, I think I've learned most of it the hard way," Snape stared at the three volumes. "But perhaps it would be something that Lara would be interested in perusing."

"You may first want to start her off with the basics," Dumbledore said, his expression somber but hopeful. "You said that she knew nothing of… "

"That's correct. She knows nothing. And now, thanks to me, she has nothing."

"I believe that she would argue with you," he stood and extinguished the candle on his desk, preparing to return to his night chambers.

"And just what would that be?" Severus now raised his eyes in curiosity.

"You have always placed such little value on yourself," he lifted his finger and Fawkes flew down from the wooden rafter to join the bearded man. "I'm hoping that tonight will mark a new beginning for you both."

"Of course. Hope. Hope and love." Snape's head dropped to his chin as he eyed the eternally optimistic old Headmaster. "That and a Knut will buy you a cup of coffee."

Albus nodded and blew out the remaining candle and gave him a quick wink. "Indeed."

Her hands were folded protectively around her midriff as she listened to his tale of Wizards and Witches and Dragons and Elves.

"And you say that I'm not a Witch, but that my mother was, and that not having acquired her magical genes, I am sort of a Magical person," she pulled the blanket a little closer to herself.

_Well, this feels real enough_, she thought, rubbing her hand over the scratchy wool. _Perhaps I'm starting to awaken._

"I know, I know," he ran his fingers through his hair, his other hand tucked into his waist as he paced the floor between her bed and the window. "You must feel like Alice, gone down the rabbit's hole. But I know of no other way to explain this world to you."

"You mean Alice in Wonderland? But how do you know of this story if you aren't a Mug?"

"Muggle," he corrected her gently. "I am half Muggle myself. And we are encouraged to read all sorts of literature."

"I see." She didn't really, but she truly was trying.

"But in this case, it really isn't a good example, because Lewis Carroll was a Wizard," he pushed his hands in his pockets nervously, not knowing what else to do with them.

"I see," she said again, and held on tightly to the coarse and scratchy blanket, the only thing in this strange world that felt familiar to her. That, and the man who stood in front of her.

He brought her books from the library, performed acts of very small and non-threatening magic for her, introduced her to a small group of teachers at the school who came, one by one, to her room, most carrying a flower or a gift to welcome her. He thought it best to bring her meals to the room for the first two days while she studied and read, but soon she begged him for fresh air and he gladly took her around the grounds of Hogwarts, carefully avoiding the snow covered Whomping Willow or the edge of the magical forest, where at this time of the year, piercing howls could be heard from the mating Manfrees. It was quite out of season for Quidditch so he did not as yet have to explain children swooping through the air on broomsticks.

He had never before experienced this kind of excitement, and his smile bloomed ear to ear.

When Lara had entered the Great Hall to join the Christmas festivities, all sound had ceased, but for the clanging of a few forks that had fallen on the hard stone floor. Only silence had prevailed.

She had been ready to flee, but Severus had walked to her side and touched the bodice of her gown, deep lavender in color, as the depths of the sea.

Her shocking crimson colored hair had stood out, as vibrant as the sunset against the ocean, catching the hues of the strands of gold that Snape had woven with a spell into the threads of her gown.

She had steeled herself against the laughter and the mockery that had followed her throughout her life, but it hadn't come. There was only the intake of breath from the crowd. The students crowded around each other, murmuring flattering praises. The women at the head table, comprised of teachers, professors and lecturers, glanced down at their frumpy and, in some cases, moth eaten gowns, and resolved to inventory and replenish their wardrobes

The men sucked in their stomachs and hastily combed fingers through their hair, some going so far as to subtly rearrange their genitalia to flaunt their best (or so they thought) attributes.

But she only had eyes for one, and as she reached out to touch him, he pulled her into himself and waited for the music to start.

She had found heaven and he had found his way out of hell.

"I have some news for you," the Headmaster turned to them as they entered his chambers, "and before you ask, I have tried my best to talk them out of it, unfortunately, without any luck whatsoever."

Snape's eyes grew darker as he steeled himself for the inevitable. He had heard the buzz regarding what he thought was coming, but had hoped that it was only idol rumor.

"Lara won't be allowed to stay at Hogwarts. Even though we do have a few Squibs living with us, they have been with us for many years and are grandfathered into the rules. However, the law that was passed ten years ago, disallowing Squibs to live on the premises, continues to be in effect. The ministry has given Lara one week to return to the Muggle community."

"That is outrageous!" Snape blustered loudly, but realized at the same time that his righteous anger was only because of his and Lara's situation. He had never voiced an opinion in the past, one way, or the other, regarding this ruling.

"The reason behind the statute is rather simple," Albus thumbed through a large tome. "Children born to Witches and Wizards who possess no magical powers generally find themselves living in a world of confusion and frustration. This has often led to deep psychological problems, withdrawal, in some cases suicide. The tenet was written essentially to protect such individuals," he closed the book and removed his glasses. "I argued, as you are about to at this moment, that Lara is no longer a child, and to return her to her previous situation might present true danger for her, but I'm afraid that I was not successful in my arguments. The Ministry fears that making one exception would set a precedent, and they are not willing to do this."

Snape looked at Lara, his eyes questioning hers.

"I… I don't really care where I live, Severus, as long as we are together. I mean, I suppose that if we must return, I would like to go back to my home and to my town where everything is familiar to me, but… "

"There is no question about our being together," he pulled her close to him. "But as far as returning to your village…" he trailed off without finishing his sentence.

He had not spoken to her of his feelings regarding her safety on the night of the Snow Festival Ball. He was quite certain that Lara had mercifully blocked the incident out of her mind, perhaps with a little assistance from his potions shelf.

"Lara, Professor McGonagall has asked me to direct you to her office when I'm finished. She would like you to give her some advice in regards to a new hat that she is planning to purchase. In the mean time, I have some rather dry and boring school business to discuss with Severus, so perhaps this would be a good time for you to… "

"Oh, of course, Professor. Severus, I'll meet you at dinner then?"

Snape nodded and gave her a vague smile. How could he break the news to her that she would not be kindly accepted back into her old world?

"I know what you're thinking, Severus," Albus looked up.

"What a surprise," the droll reply.

"And that is why I arranged for Lara to go to Minerva's office so that I could give you a possible solution to your dilemma," he continued.

Snape sighed and collapsed into the chair in front of him, legs splayed. "Dandy," was all he could say, his mind still engaged with visions of the villagers jeering at the small and frightened girl.

"There is a charm, I have discovered, that will allow the Muggles to see Lara as you do," he folded his hands in front of him. "But I need your permission."

This had Snape's attention and he sat up straighter. "Well, by all means, cast it! Once they see Lara as the lovely and irresistible woman that she truly is, they will be as smitten with her as we all are. She will be able to live and work in her 'beloved' village, and even though I might find it difficult to forgive the stupid cows, I'll gladly do it for her. We did have a rather nice life in our cottages next to the ocean, and once we are married we can choose which one to move into permanently."

"Married? I didn't know that congratulations were in order," Albus clapped his hands together.

"No, and neither does she. I've only just started to get up my courage to ask her, and it might take a few more weeks, so please, Albus, don't be helpful. Your meddling won't make it a bit easier," he growled softly, but his eyes held a twinkle.

"There is, however, one caveat to the charm," the bearded man steepled his fingers and placed them to his nose.

"There always is," Snape sighed. "What could it possibly be? Will she crave whiskey and cigarettes when the moon is full? Or grow a beard upon reaching the age of thirty? Spit it out."

"Not Lara. The caveat most likely will affect you more. That is why I thought it best to lay out the charm to you alone before giving her the option as well."

"I might look good with a beard," Snape's eyebrow arched, then dropped as he noticed that Dumbledore no longer smiled.

"She will appear to Muggles as she now does to Magic folk. But once the charm is cast, the situation will reverse, and we will only be able to see her as they once did."

"I see," Snape's eyes darkened. "In other words, she will appear as beautiful as she is to the rest of the world, but… "

"Yes. A terrible choice to have to make," Dumbledore eyed him closely.

"Is there really any choice, Albus? First of all, it is my fault that she is banned from her home. Secondly, she has never had the opportunity to know how it might be to actually fit in, to be desirable, to look pleasing to others. Can I really deny her of that? And most importantly, am I in love with the woman or with her outward appearance?"

The old man allowed the younger to ask the questions, knowing full well that he wasn't expecting answers from anyone but himself.

"You are perhaps the most honorable man I have ever known," he interrupted "and I know that you are willing to proceed with this change immediately. But I have to insist that you take a day's time to give me a final answer."

"It won't change," Snape pursed his lips.

"I know. But perhaps you would like to first discuss it with Lara."

"NO. I mean, I will discuss the charm with her. But she is not to know the… the rest of it. As far as she is concerned, nothing will be different on my part. And if you don't mind, I would like to be the one to administer the charm."

"Alright, Severus, tomorrow after dinner, I will teach it to you."

Snape nodded, then stood and left the chambers.

They entered his cottage, but not before he had checked the windows and the doors, and any other possible place of entry. His wand work detected no unusual trespassing; in fact there was not even the outline of one unknown footstep anywhere around the perimeter. She observed him carefully and he was glad to not have to hide his magic from her anymore.

"We'll stay here tonight, or perhaps for a few days, just until I am satisfied that everything is quite normal. I'd rather test your home in the bright and early sunlight of morning," he said, eyes darting to every corner of the room but noticing nothing that set off alarm bells in his head.

"Explain to me once again about the charm," she said when she had put the kettle on the fire. "You said that it will allow my old friends and neighbors to see me the same as I'm seen by Magical folks?"

_Old friends and neighbors_, he smirked inwardly. _Bloody bastards who had no use for you. No kindness, no compassion._

"Yes. When you're ready, I'll cast it," his heart quivered suddenly and he swallowed hard. "Let's have our tea first, though."

When they were nearly finished sipping the dark and rich brew, he leaned over and taking her head in his hands, he kissed her mouth. "I love you," he whispered, and felt tears sting his eyes. He lifted the hair from her forehead and made a small sign above her nose with the pad of his thumb. Then he blew his breath over her face.

A moment later his eyes widened and he sat back in his chair.

"Is that it? Did it work?" she questioned.

Only silence met her ears.

"Yes," he answered, finally. "Yes, it worked."

He was tossed between shock and anger. Shock at the vision that he saw before him, and anger at his reaction.

The worst of it was that he couldn't look her in the eye. They ate together and they talked together and they even slept together in the tremendously vast bed in his cottage, but he could not look at her, and when he did, he felt a shudder of revulsion tickling his spine and spinning his stomach.

It was a bit better when they turned the lights off late that night because her voice hadn't changed and certainly she was the same person on the inside. But try as he might, he couldn't reach out and touch her, not even in the darkness.

At breakfast she still didn't seem to sense that anything was wrong, because he feigned a headache and an oncoming cold.

"So Wizards get colds, just like us Muggle people," she grinned at him, and he quickly turned away from the sight of her.

"Yes," he exited the door, glad for the opportunity to go to her cottage and inspect it for damage.

Nothing here seemed out of place either and he surmised that the Obliviation had been more successful than he had hoped.

"Severus?" the familiar male voice surprised him, and he realized that he had been completely lost in thought.

"Martin," he turned to the small figure.

"I was just stopping by to see whether you would be returning to the shop. Surely you must have given me a date, but I couldn't quite remember, so I thought that I would stop by on my way into town. I don't know why I have such lapses lately. Perhaps you could mix up one of those holistic herbal drinks for me."

_Or maybe you should stay away from Wizards and hexes_, Snape thought.

"Yes, Martin. I'll be back at the shop in a day or so."

"Good, good. Is Lara in? I wanted to thank her for… for… oh dear, now I don't quite remember what it was that… "

"Was it the Christmas cookies that I sent over to you?" her voice approached them from behind.

Severus cringed at the sight of her.

"Lara!" the short, white haired man gasped. "What… oh my, look at you. You look positively radiant. Is it a new hair-do?"

"Um, yes. I've let it grow a bit. Do you really like it?" she spun around.

"Like it? You know, I never noticed before just how pretty you are. I wonder why that is?" he was staring at her as if she had just popped out of a Genie's bottle. "Severus, I do remember your mentioning how lovely she is, but I suppose I never really paid close attention."

Lara looked to Severus, but his back was turned, his eyes searching something in the rolling of the ocean's waves.

"I think it's safe for you to return to your home," he told her when Martin had left them. "I don't know how long this cold will plague me, and I don't want to risk infecting you with it," he said, but didn't meet her eyes.

"Alright, Severus, whatever you think best. Anyway, it won't last forever, and when you feel better we can plan a nice meal and a lovely evening, perhaps looking at the moon," she touched his shoulder.

He backed away from her and walked to his bedroom. "I think I'd better lie down for a while," he pretended a cough.

He saw her leave the next day from the window of his bedroom and presumed that she was going to the school to resume her teaching. He sat and stared into the fire for most of the day, his stomach sour and tense. When she returned, she immediately came into the room, fairly bubbling over with stories of her new adventures.

"Severus, I didn't want to wake you this morning since you weren't feeling well, but oh, so many things have happened to me today. The other teachers invited me to go out to lunch with them, and while we were there, everyone in the restaurant stopped by the table and spoke to me. It was almost as though they couldn't get enough of my attention. And I was thinking all along how I wished you could have been there to see the smiles."

"I'm afraid that I'm not very good company tonight, Lara. I'm still… "

"Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry. Of course I'm being utterly thoughtless. I know how much I prefer to be left alone when I'm not feeling well. Can I bring you some soup?"

"No, thank you," he strained to give her a smile. "I have no appetite." At least this part wasn't a lie, he thought miserably, and closed his eyes as the door shut softly behind her.

He entered the chemist's shop and tore into the work that had piled up in his absence. It was a relief to not have to concentrate on his own misery, and soon he was measuring and pouring, lost in the occupation that he was so good at.

He didn't hear her approaching footsteps but looked up just in time to catch the sight of the red hair that he recognized.

"You must be feeling better, then," she spoke, a tinge of hurt in her voice.

"I'm just starting to get my footing," he turned to the shelf and reached for the bags that she had come for.

"Would you be up to some dinner tonight?" she barely whispered.

"Not yet. I think I'll turn in early. It's enough now just to try to build my… "

But she had turned and was walking away from the counter. He was relieved not to see her face, because his Wizard's nose could smell her tears.

He became quite adept at avoiding her, and when they did meet, he always had an apology or excuse for having to rush away. Soon she no longer stopped by, but resumed her old schedule, running on the beach and taking solitary walks in the woods. They no longer shared their meals or their bottles of wine, and she made it a point to go the chemist shop only on the days when she was certain he would not be working.

Snape's large and empty bed remained that way, as he had taken to sleeping on the sofa in front of the fireplace, his dreams taking him back to a moonlit evening, his arms wrapped around the most beautiful girl in the world.


	6. Chapter 6 Illusions and Conclusions

He was standing in the surf, watching her running toward him, his heart beating wildly, knowing that any second she would be at his side. His hands reached out to her, aching to pull her into his arms. He saw the velvet softness of her cheek, the tilt of her mouth as she smiled at him, and his breath caught in his throat. She was so close now, nearly touching him. Suddenly her smile faltered, and she lifted her hands, blocking the sight of herself from him, turning her head as if from shame. Slowly she began to walk away, robbing him of all warmth and joy.

He wanted to run, to stop her, to keep her from leaving, but a heavy weight was trapping him in the sand and the mud. Glancing down, he saw that he was wearing his tunic and black, water-soaked, robes. The tide was now rising and almost to his knees, and his feet were buried in a dune that the roaring waves had pounded onto the shore.

He reached for his wand, but a spell came from somewhere on the beach and hexed it out of his fingers. He opened his mouth to yell for her but no sound passed his lips. Tears of frustration, then overwhelming sadness, slid down his cheeks as he watched her walking away, finally disappearing into the fog that rolled over the water and hung ghostlike in the cold and damp air.

He awoke from the dream, his face wet, and his throat tight.

He was losing her, and he had made no attempt whatsoever to fight for her. To fight for them both.

Somehow he had to reach her; had to find some way to overcome the ugliness that was not within her, but sat squarely on his shoulders alone. He resolved to do it immediately.

He walked to her cottage and saw at once that she was dragging a large suitcase over the threshold of the open, front door. "Are you leaving?" he asked in a hoarse tone.

"Yes. I'm going on a trip." She had been startled to see him stepping out of the shadows toward her, but she attempted a small smile.

"A trip?" he licked his dry lips, a hollow, cold void forming in his stomach.

"It's actually not a trip, as such, Severus", she sighed and straightened her back. "I'm not going to return." Her voice was almost a whisper.

Blood rushed to his ears. "It's because of me, isn't it?"

"No, Severus. It's because of me." She balanced the heavy suitcase against the railing of her small, front porch to keep it from toppling. "I have made you unhappy, and day by day you grow sadder. I just can't stand to see what I've done to you. You loved me once and then you stopped, and that's alright. I can understand that. But I can't stand to see you suffering on my account. "

"Lara… "He started toward her.

"No, Severus, let me have my say. Please," her eyes begged.

"Alright," he whispered.

"You are a really good man, and you would not hurt me for the world, to the point where you would give up your happiness for mine. You deserve better, Severus."

He stared at her, his eyes dark and tinged with sorrow.

"You are very, very wrong," he said firmly, walking to her and pulling her into his arms. He could feel her body shaking from the sob she tried hard to muffle. "I'm not a good man, not a kind man. And I don't deserve to be asking this of you, Lara, but please… please stay. Please don't leave me."

Through her tears he could see the sparkle of bright, rare emeralds.

_Those eyes._

Nothing else had changed about her, but he didn't want to look away. Here he could clearly see the woman he loved. He no longer cared about anything else, as long as he could continue to look into her eyes and know that _she _dwelt within.

Had she been there all along? Had he just not taken the time to search for her? Had he been too distracted by the strange distortions that the charm had placed upon her body, and not bothered to look through the windows of her soul?

He took her in his arms and kissed her cheek and the dewy skin that he remembered. His lips found hers and his senses reeled, as much from the realization of how close he had come to losing her, as from the heat that coursed through his body at her nearness.

"You can't leave," he whispered in a warm breath against her ear. "We have a wedding to attend."

"A wedding?' she pulled back in confusion. "Who's wedding?"

His coal black eyes once more sought out the deep sea green under her thick lashes. "Ours," he held his breath nervously, "If you'll have me."

She had refused his offer of a large and elaborate ceremony. Snape, of course, was secretly pleased, as he abhorred the thought of wining and dining the nincompoops of the village, who now suddenly treated Lara as the Queen of the May, but he had been prepared to go along with any of her dreams and wishes.

She settled instead on a very small service in the chapel and an equally tiny reception at his cottage, directly following the nuptials, as they had decided to make this slightly larger house their permanent home.

While Lara dressed and prepared for the ceremony, Severus slyly snuck into the village and decorated the small chapel in preparation.

He hung garlands of fragrant pine boughs from the rafters, accenting them with mistletoe and holly berries in the spirit of the winter season. He placed large and fragrant beeswax candles throughout the dark interior, bathing it in a warm and shimmering glow.

There was no organ or other means of music, but the few people who were invited were later heard to remark about the beautiful sound of a string quartet that none of them had visibly noticed.

"It was all quite magical," Herman Vanderplug had shrugged his shoulder, which also magically no longer ached from arthritis.

She was in white, he in black. Other than these traditional touches, nothing about the wedding in the cozy little church was vaguely familiar to the handful of town's people who were seated amongst them.

The man who officiated at the rites was not from the village, Margena Skoff noted in a loud whisper to her husband Thomas. She was shocked to see that the man's beard reached nearly to his knees, purple and sage-green robes billowing around his tall frame. It was almost as though he read her mind, she thought, as every time she raised her curious expression to his face, he caught her eye and answered with a wink.

There were a number of other guests that Margena assumed were from the groom's side of the family, she being familiar with every villager as well as any piece of gossip that may have been attached to them. A woman with long flowing hair and large coke bottle glasses wound her way up the aisle, bumping into several of the pews and excusing herself to no one in particular, with a red faced smile. Her dowdy gown was covered by a long cobalt blue jacket that was sprinkled with small gold stars. Closely behind her followed a very short man who barely reached the height of the woman's knees. He had a snow white beard and hair as soft as cotton batting, floating in clouds around his wide, pink, and cheery face.

_Carnival people, _Margena thought, nodding to herself knowingly. Her uncle had run away and joined the carnival as a boy, and didn't he have stories from that one eventful year? She wondered whether they were family to the handsome groom, wondering as well how he had escaped the life of circus tents and sideshows, gaining instead an acceptable profession in the field of medicine.

But not even her certain knowledge of the occupation of the young man's friends and family prepared her for the next visitor to walk down the aisle. The floor shook as he entered, and Margena's jaw dropped at the site of the towering man as he ducked to keep from touching the lowest rafter of the chapel. He took the very front pew, allowing him to sit less encumbered with no other seat before him. Even so, his stout stature filled up the entire pew, arms spread to his sides, enormous ham hands resting on the oaken seat. His hair was wild and unruly, despite the swipes he took at it with outsized fingers.

Moments later Margena's eyes widened when a velvety gray and black striped cat entered the chapel and, sleekly as you please, leapt with grace right next to the giant, and settled itself primly at his side.

_Animals in a chapel!_ She gasped to herself. What's next? Surely soon the clowns would appear!

But just as she had been certain that the next group coming through the door would at least be dressed in acrobatic tights and tutus, she was almost disappointed to see three quite ordinary youngsters entering in a polite and mannerly fashion. The two young men wore nice clean shirts and trousers and neatly pressed ties, although the one had a rather large scar on his forehead. _Ah, perhaps he is the acrobat after all, bearing the mark of a recent fall, _she opined. The girl looked rather plain but with a nice shapely build. Margena couldn't decide on her occupation. Perhaps in makeup and colorful clothing, she might be an assistant to the tall, red headed boy, picturing him in magician's robes.

The groom turned just in time to see the entrance of these three, and his eyebrow shot up to his hairline. The dark eyes took them in slowly, and his mouth set in a puckered smirk, then quickly transformed into a small smile as he nodded at them briefly. They returned his smile with varying degrees of pink tinged blushes.

The music started to play softly and the stately man in the elaborate robes beckoned the bride and groom to approach. From the front pew came the sound of loud sobbing, then a honking, quite similar to the noise of geese and ganders at mating time. The giant reached inside his massive leather coat and brought out a tablecloth-sized kerchief, dabbing at tears that flowed down his ruddy cheeks and into his full and wiry beard. He put his knuckles to his mouth in an attempt to suppress a wail, but wasn't entirely successful.

As his eyes locked into hers, Severus gazed deeply into the green pools and saw her once again as he had known her. He no longer minded that his eyes couldn't take in the beauty that the villagers saw in her. He wished for a moment that the magical people in the chapel could see her as they once had, walking on his arm in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, every eye drawn to her. But if they were shocked at the change in her appearance, they did not let on. Severus surmised that Dumbledore had revealed the details of the charm to them with instructions to act in an appropriate manner, whatever their reactions might be.

It truly didn't matter to Snape, other than fearing that a word or a glance might spoil the day for Lara. He sought only the beauty that came from within the woman, and his heart was full to the point of bursting as he took her hand, and with the small gold band, prepared to join her with him for all time.

Slipping it on her finger, he noticed that her nails were… what had she told him once upon a time? Polished?

He stared at them, pink and perfect and surrounded by alabaster skin that was so radiant that it almost glowed. He remembered seeing her hands like this once before, remembered his slight embarrassment as his mind had treated him to the vision of the rest of her body.

His eyes drifted up from her hands, along her arms, slender and feminine, the fine golden hairs shimmering in the candle's light. He could see the slight beat of her pulse at the curve of her throat as she tilted her head up to his. Her deep auburn hair lay in shining curls against the back of her neck, silky ribbons that he ached to touch, almost as much as the lips that now trembled slightly as she spoke the words that bonded their union.

He felt his own part in surprise. He could see her clearly now, without the distortions of the charm.

"Albus… "He began, his confusion growing.

"Severus," the old man chuckled deeply in his throat. "This is no time for discussions. I believe that your bride is waiting to be kissed."

Margena Skoff was disappointed. She was terribly eager to meet some of the carnival people who had attended the wedding. She looked forward to a most interesting reception. Therefore it was a letdown when she plainly overheard the conversation between the bridegroom and the tall man in the ceremonial garb.

"We would love to stay a while, Severus, but the train will be leaving within the hour and the Hogwarts Express waits for no one. There are gifts that have been delivered to your home. Mine is the red box - chocolates from Paris. Pay no attention if one or two are missing."

"Right," Snape raised his trademark eyebrow. "But Albus… "

"We'll talk soon, Severus. We really mustn't be late", the blue eyes twinkled.

Margena wasn't familiar with this Hog express, but reasoned that it was an inexpensive cattle car train that would carry the carnival people to wherever it was where they were presently entertaining. Somewhere south, she nodded to herself sagely, where the weather was beginning to show signs of spring and crowds were certain to gather. She would share these observations with Thomas at tea that evening, he not being as knowledgeable about these things.

The reception was short and just as curious, as Mrs. Skoff told her friends the following day. The food and the wine were perfectly acceptable, but the gifts that were piled high in the assorted rooms were certainly not something that she would have chosen for a wedding. There were colorful jars and bottles containing strange looking herbs and potions, and something that resembled the horn of an animal. Most unusual of all, a tall, gilded bird's cage, and peering from within, the round eyes of a large spotted white owl. But then again, carnival folk were known to have quite a meager income and she supposed that they were forced to be creative. She glanced at the silvery cloak that someone had tied with a ribbon and set upon the sideboard. It was quite transparent, probably worn thin from age and use. She sighed softly to herself, grateful for her life, so much more glamorous and luxurious.

It was the moonlight that awakened him, not that he had been long asleep. They had shuffled the stragglers politely out the door after a couple of hours of celebration, Snape a bit less polite than his gracious wife, and he had carried her into the room that contained the large and vast bed.

Oddly, it hadn't seemed quite so vast as the night had progressed, since Severus had been quite intent on bringing pleasure to his bride in every conceivable position, and she, more than eager to accept his attentions. Now he looked at her hand as the moonlight caught the small gold circle on her ring finger. He was certain that the ring had contained a charm that Albus had discovered, to allow him to see her once again as she truly was, and he couldn't deny that it made him happy, but deep in his heart he knew that the charm wasn't really necessary. They had found each other again, and the love he held for her in his heart was much stronger than what was merely revealed through his eyes. He curled his arm around her waist and slept, no longer plagued by his nightmares.

The chirping of birds awakened them both and she nuzzled her lips into his neck.

"Wife, if you are hungry, there is no need to nibble on me. At least not until after breakfast," he threw a cover over them both. "Nobby!"

The Elf cracked into the room, his smile a mile wide. "Good morning Sir and Mrs. Sir", he gave a small bow. "Nobby can serve the breakfast now?"

"If you would, Nobby. And Mrs. Snape prefers her tea with milk", Severus lounged back on his pillow, quite pleased with this surprise that he and Nobby had arranged afore hand.

"Yes Sir," Nobby continued to grin as he hurried to leave the newlyweds, who only had eyes for each other.

As he poured the water from the kettle, his smile died on his lips and a tear formed in the corner of his large eye. He had attended the ceremony, hiding high up in one of the rafters, and had hoped that the lovely mistress might be able to return to her former self once the rings were exchanged. But to his dismay, that hadn't happened. And yet, Master Severus didn't seem to mind or even notice.

Nobby had had some difficulty looking at the once lovely mistress, so he had concentrated his face on the blankets, when the ring on her finger had caught his eye. He remembered that it had been cast by Master Dumbledore himself, days before the wedding, and even remembered the words that the Master had engraved painstakingly into the tiny band.

_Hope _and _Love._

He heard laughter coming from the bedroom as he approached the door, large tray in his hands, and the sadness lifted from his heart. He glanced out of the window and noticed that the warm morning sun had melted the remaining snow. Spring was on its way.


End file.
